


Question of mustaches

by letitmclennon



Category: The Beatles
Genre: Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 06:08:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3518288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letitmclennon/pseuds/letitmclennon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Mmm… I figured out what’s strange, Paul.”<br/>“What?”<br/>“It’s the mustaches.”<br/>“Mine or yours?”<br/>“Yours. Mine are perfect.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Question of mustaches

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone.  
> This is Chiara, from Italy, great fan of the Beatles, especially of the loving relationship between John and Paul.  
> I have written 65 stories about the Beatles, but they are published in an Italian archive.  
> This is the first that I decided to translate. So, I'm sorry if there are some mistakes.  
> I hope you'll enjoy it. :)

A kiss.

“Mmm…”

“What?”

Another kiss.

“There’s something strange.”

“Again: what?”

“Have your lips always had this shape, Paulie?”

A chuckle.

“I suppose yes, silly boy.”

A kiss, hesitating now.

“Have they always had this colour?”

“Of course, John.”

A patient look, very loving.

And then another kiss, and another one and another one, just to be sure.

“And the same taste too?”

“Mm… no, that depends on what I have eaten.”

A snort.

“You should always wash your teeth, before letting me kiss you, McCartney!”

Another laugh, a hand runs through the hair, a kiss, a nose rubs against his face.

“Mmm… I figured out what’s strange, Paul.”

“What?”

“It’s the mustaches.”

“Mine or yours?”

“Yours. Mine are perfect.”

“Why are they strange?”

Another kiss and those mustaches rub against his upper lip.

“Nothing.” A quiet giggle. “It’s just that they tickle me when I kiss you.”

“So, you should really stop kissing me.”

“And you should stop saying this bullshit.”

A kiss, two kisses, again, and again.

“Mmm… I suppose I can leave them thus…”

“And I suppose you’re right.”

“Can I also let me growing a beard?”

“Don’t you dare.”

Another kiss, just to shut him down.

“Phew!”

 


End file.
